And The Winner Is
by JacAvoy85
Summary: "So, the whole way over here, I was thinking to myself: I can't decide which one has the better body; you or the car." Erik flashed the other man his best, toothy, smile. "But then I realized that I'd rather sleep with you than the car." The brunet eyed Erik for a moment, and then whispered in his ear: "You'd have a better shot at sleeping with the car." Charles/Erik. Racing AU.


Erik Lehnsherr knows a thing or two about a bad idea. But that's not why he's here tonight, leaning against the hood of his Audi R8, cigarette between his lips and a fierce stare in his eyes.

No, he's here tonight to make some money, and to _race_.

But this isn't no kid's party: there's no 18 year olds with their parent's Honda Accords here, no this is the adults tonight. This is serious racing, no rice-burners aloud.

But back to Erik's bad idea. And he _knows_ it's a bad idea too, but he just can't seem to help himself. He takes in another long drag of his cigarette, eyeing the sexy brunet who's currently leaning against a blue Dodge Viper, and then kicks off his car to head on over, flicking his cigarette to the ground.

Fuck it, he thinks. Why not? It's been over six months since he's been to one of these things; he might as well try and get laid after the races are over.

But the reason why he knows this is a bad idea is because he knows the car that the sexy brunet is leaning against belongs to Sebastian Shaw. Which could only mean that said sexy brunet is Shaw's current fling of the week.

And Erik knows a thing or two about being Shaw's current fling of the week.

But that's not why he doing this, no- -this isn't about revenge. That's all ancient history now— him and Shaw that is. This is about the sexy brunet, whose hair is just the right length of long to make him look even yummier up close. This is about the way that said sexy brunet is - -_Jesus Christ, is he sucking on a lollipop?_ _Erik thought that was a cigarette hanging out his mouth, but no: upon further inspection, that would definitely be a lollipop_- -eyeing Erik as he made his way closer.

The brunet twirled the sucker in his mouth, watching as Erik made his way over to the car, still leaning against it as if Shaw _told_ him he had to stand there and look sexy. Which, if Erik knows Shaw (and he does) the man did.

"So, the whole way over here, I was thinking to myself: I can't decide which one has the better body; you or the car." Erik flashed the other man his best, toothy smile. "But then I realized that I'd rather sleep with you than the car, so I'm going to focus all my attention on you instead."

The brunet eyed Erik for a moment, looking him up and down- - _leather jacket, white shirt, tight jeans: not bad_- -before removing the sucker from his mouth and reaching out with his free hand to draw Erik near, his hand wrapping around the taller man's neck. He held his sucker off to the side as to not get it in the other man's hair as he whispered in his ear:

"You'd have a better shot at fucking the car." And then pulled back with a smile before popping the sucker back into his mouth, smirk curling around the stick.

Challenge accepted.

Erik matched his smirk, still eyeing the brunet as he took a step back and leaned against the car again like the good little hood ornament he was. So obedient.

Yeah, Erik would change all that.

He did after all, always like a good challenge.

"Erik Lehnsherr," came a slimly voice that could only belong to one Sebastian Shaw. The older man snaked his arm around the brunet's shoulder, as if showing Erik just who he belonged to. "I didn't think you still came out to these things," he said before placing a kiss to the brunet's temple. "It's been so long."

The boy just looked bored, still sucking on his candy.

Erik had to rip his eyes away from those lips- -_god they were red_, _was that natural or from the sucker_?- -and force himself to look at his skeevy ex.

"Shaw," he drawled out, looking the man up and down. Still old as fuck. "It has been awhile, yes. But I was feeling particularly… 'lucky' tonight." He eyed the brunet again.

Shaw must have noticed, for he pulled the boy even closer and smirked. "This is Charles," he said coolly, has if he didn't know why Erik had come over in the first place. "He's my-"

"Car decoration?" Erik supplied with a smirk. And he was pleased to note the small smile that formed (even though Charles was trying hard not to) around the sucker's stick in the man's mouth. Charles quickly looked to the side, so Shaw wouldn't see, but the older man didn't even seem to have noticed.

"-boyfriend," he finished lamely, narrowing his eyes at Erik. But then one side of his mouth curled up into a wicked grin as he slid his hand down Charles' side, hugging the man even closer. "Which is more than I could've ever said about you," he added venomously.

Erik's expression didn't change, but he did notice Charles' eyes flash from the side to Erik, and then back away again.

_Yes, that's right, the man who currently has his skeevy little hands on you is my ex, and soon enough you'll know how it feels to be used and dumped- -for a younger model so to say. _

And Erik wasn't referring to the Viper.

"Now if you'll excuse us," Shaw said as he pushed off the car, releasing Charles from his death hold. "We'd like to go somewhere more…private, before the races start." He gave Erik one more once over. "I always did like to have a bit of 'fun' before I raced, if you know what I mean."

_Yeah_, Erik thought as he watched the two men get into Shaw's car, _he knows what he means_. He also knows just where Shaw is going. It's the same place that Shaw used to take Erik and have him suck him off before he raced- -not too far down the road, off a beaten path- -Erik remembers.

He remembers all too well.

…

Erik leaned against a tree, another cigarette in his mouth, and eyed the blue Viper off in the distance, parked on a dirt road, trying to hide within the trees. But it wasn't hidden well enough that he couldn't make out the head (floppy brown hair) that was bobbing up and down, or the hand that was in the brown hair, forcing it to go faster.

He flicked his cigarette down to the ground as he blew out the last dregs of smoke, squishing the butt with his shoe.

Yeah, he'll change all that.

…

Next Friday.

Erik was talking to Alex and Darwin, laughing about that time that Alex nearly raced his car right off the road and into a tree.

"Hey, in my defense," the blond said, "there was a fucking opossum on the road. Do you know how hard it is to get opossum off your hood?"

"Not as hard as getting tree off it." Darwin pointed out with a laugh, clapping the younger man on the shoulder. He then looked over to Erik, noticing the man's gaze had shifted slightly and was staring right at-

Uh oh.

"Bad idea man," Darwin said as his eyes too landed on Erik's prey. "You know he's Shaw's right?"

Of course he knew. But Erik didn't care; he just kept staring at the brunet as he leaned bored against the blue Viper. And _damn_ did he look good in that button up shirt, the top three buttons undone (Shaw probably made him do that), and those dark jeans that fit him just right. His hair was slightly messier than last week, but no less sexy looking.

No sucker this time though. Erik didn't know whether to be relieved or upset.

"Lehnsherr," Darwin said, trying to gain the man's attention again. "I'm telling you; it's a bad idea."

"Extra bad idea," Alex added.

But Erik likes bad ideas.

"I know," he said slowly, bringing his eyes back to his friends before giving Darwin a toothy grin. "But since when has that ever stopped me?"

…

Later, Erik watched as Shaw reemerged from his car, tires still hot, and a victorious smile on his face. He held his hand out and the poor redhead who thought it would be a good idea to race him held his keys out and dropped them into Shaw's slimy hand. Erik saw Shaw smirk wickedly, his fingers curling around the keys as he told the young man: "Maybe next time you'll learn not to play with the big boys."

He then watched as two busty blondes came up to Shaw, one on each side, and wrapped their arms around him, sending him their praise and batting their "_oh we love you so much Shaw"_ eyes at him.

It made Erik sick.

He then noticed Charles, off on the sidelines. The brunet took a drag of his cigarette before he flung it to the ground and walked off, unimpressed by the turn of events. Erik looked back over to Shaw and the girls, who were now insisting that pictures be taken- -_really? _Erik rolled his eyes- -before he too decided that he'd seen enough.

Shaw always was such the showman. The creep.

…

"You know, I would never do that to you."

Charles looked up, spotting Erik as the man made his way closer. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked away. "Do what?" he asked, even though he didn't care.

Stopping right in front of the shorter man, Erik cocked his head to the side. "I would never treat you like that." He motioned his head over to where Shaw was, still being groped by the car floozies. "I would never degrade you like that."

"Yeah? And what do you know about it?" Charles snapped at him. He reached into his pocket and fished out his pack of smokes, popping one into his mouth.

Erik's hand came up with a lighter, already lit, before Charles even had the chance to find his. He lit the man's cigarette as he spoke. "I know that everyone thinks he gets his cock sucked by those skanks every time he wins a race, and that he likes everyone thinking that."

Charles took a long inhale before blowing the smoke out his nose, not looking at the taller man. "I don't give a fuck what anyone else thinks." He took another drag, and then finally looked at the other man.

"Is that so?" Erik said with a smirk as he popped his own cigarette into his mouth, lighting it quickly. He looked at the younger man. "That's why you're over here? Away from everyone? Hiding in the trees?" _Brooding_. And Erik knows all about brooding.

Charles took in one long drag of his cigarette, eyeing Erik for a minute.

"Go fuck yourself."

He then walked away, leaving Erik in the darkness.

But that didn't stop Erik.

"If you were mine," he called out to Charles' retreating back, "you'd be the only car floozy that I let hang on me." He winced. _Damnit. _"Wait, that came out wrong- -that's not what I meant."

But Charles just kept on walking, seemingly ignoring the man. But what Erik didn't see, was the small smile that formed on the brunet's face as he made his way back to the races.

…

Next Friday.

"Put me down to race Shaw," Erik said to Logan, who was counting a large wad of cash.

The burly man didn't even look up; he just chewed on his cigar and told Erik: "Not a chance in hell bub."

…

Next Friday.

"I want to race Shaw."

Logan, who was doing something on his phone (probably sending Scott a passive aggressive text), looked at up Erik. He took a puff of his cigar and then hardened his gaze. "Not yet," he told him. "You're not ready."

Losing his patience_, _Erik took one step closer to the bigger man. "Damn it Logan, I'm ready. Why won't you let me do this?"

Logan took his cigar out of his mouth. "Because Lehnsherr, I'm not going to let you get yourself killed just to prove a point. You're still angry at him, and I'm not going to let you race him while you're angry. You remember what happened last time that went down?" He popped the foul cigar back in his mouth. "I'll let you race him once this is no longer personal."

A growl. "This has nothing to do with Shaw dumping me," Erik grit out. "I'm over that. This is something entirely different."

The burly man just looked at Erik for a moment, thinking about what he said as he chewed on his cigar. His eyes then flashed over to Shaw, who, _once again_, had his arm tightly around Charles' waist. He glanced back to Erik with a knowing look and a cocked eyebrow.

Still:

"No."

"Fuck Logan," Erik growled and then stomped off.

Logan huffed a laugh and went back to his phone. He knew what he was doing.

…

Later that night, after Erik had raced Janos and won (he refused to take his car, money was all he was after- -selling a car took too much time (especially a car that was more than likely stolen)- -Erik just needed cash now), Erik had spotted Shaw again: this time with two brunettes around each arm, Charles still off on the sidelines and looking… hurt? Bored? Indifferent? Erik couldn't really tell but-

No wait, definitely hurt. Charles looked down at his shoes, stuffing his hands into his leather jacket (ooh, sexy, Erik didn't know he was a leather jacket type guy) before looking back up at Shaw, who was now in the process of-

_What the fuck?_ Kissing one of the floozies with his tongue? _That bastard_. Erik flashed his eyes back over to Charles, who just turned and walked away.

In fact, it seemed as if he was walking-

_Oh god_. He was going to walk home, wasn't he? He was heading towards the main road, the highway. Dear lord, they were in the middle of fucking nowhere, off some country bumpkin road and Charles was going to walk home.

Erik smiled. Not if he could help it that is.

…

"Get in," Erik said as he drove up alongside Charles, looking at him through the open passenger's side window.

Charles just sighed, not looking at the other man. "How'd I know?" he muttered, but got in the car despite himself. Erik smiled as he slid into the seat and put his seatbelt on. "Just drive," Charles said, unsmiling and looking ahead. He rested his temple against the doorframe and closed his eyes. "And no talking," he added. "You're not allowed to talk to me."

Shrugging, Erik just put his car into first and took off down the road again, leaving the races behind. And Shaw. _Ha_!

After a few minutes of highway driving though, Erik reached his hand up and tapped his GPS, and then looked over to Charles, still obeying his "no talking" rule. Charles sighed. "That's right, I do suppose you need to know where I live," he said as he reached for the GPS, putting his address into it. Once the coordination was set, Charles went back to moping out the window. He propped his elbow up and rested his head on his hand.

Erik glanced over at him with a questioning/concerned look, but said nothing.

And Charles said nothing either, he just looked out the window as Erik drove them back into civilization, away from his bastard of a boyfriend. (_"It's just for show Charles; you have nothing to worry about. Why are you so upset?")_

But, about ten minutes later:

"I saw you race," Charles said, looking over at the driver. "Earlier that is, against that Spanish guy." He glanced back out the window. "You were good," he added.

Erik smiled.

They then went back to silence for another five minutes or so, until:

A sigh. "Okay, you can talk now," Charles finally said, and Erik only smiled wider. He decided to choose his next words wisely.

"I told you he was a bastard."

A small huff came from the brunet as he shook his head. "You never actually physically used those words," he pointed out to the older man. But Erik just shrugged. "It was implied."

"Whatever," Charles mumbled, still looking out the window and not at Erik. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his pack of smokes and his lighter. Erik watched out of the corner of his eye as the younger man popped a smoke in his mouth and tried to light it.

"Damn lighter," Charles cursed and then tossed it out the window. They always run out of fluid when you need them the most. Unsure what else to do, he looked at Erik with sad eyes.

The other man just chuckled, reaching into his coat for a lighter and handed it to Charles. "You mind lighting one of those up for me as well?"

After taking the lighter, Charles lit up his cigarette, and then took in an inhale before handing it over to Erik. He pulled out another one.

"Thanks," Erik said as he popped it in his mouth. If it's the closest he'll get to kissing Charles, he'll take it. He wrapped his lips around the filter and sucked.

Charles just shrugged in response and lit the new cigarette between his lips. Unaware of the secondhand kissing that was going on next to him.

They smoked in silence; just the sound of the car and the GPS giving directions was all that could be heard.

Until:

"Where are we going?" Charles looked at Erik as he pulled into the dingy gas station.

"I need gas," Erik replied simply, smiling over at his passenger. And so maybe he really didn't need gas, big deal, that didn't mean that _shut up_.

Silence for a second, and then: "If you come back with rope and duct tape, I'm putting this cigarette out in your eye," Charles said, nonplussed, and looking out the window again. Erik just chuckled as he put his car in park. _Ah_, he hasn't heard that threat in a while. It's good to be back.

"Not exactly my MO," he reassured his passenger as he got out to put gas in his car. Once finished he went inside to pay, and when he returned, he came up to Charles' side and leaned in through window.

"So, most guys would've returned with a rose or something equally stupid and predicable, but seeing how 'gas station rose' doesn't scream romantic, I thought I'd come back with something you could actually use." Erik then produced a lighter- -a zippo to be exact- -and handed it to Charles.

The brunet looked down at the zippo in his hand- -_blue as his eyes- -_and then back up to Erik.

"Thanks." He said, and he sounded like he meant it. Erik just smiled, still leaning in the window for a moment longer before he pushed off the car and came back around to his side.

The rest of the drive back to Charles' place was in silence, and Erik couldn't help but notice the way that Charles played with the zippo in his hand, a small smile tugging at his lips as he did.

Shaw probably never got him a thing the entire time they'd been together, however long or short that was. That didn't surprise Erik though. Shaw was always more of a taker, not a giver.

Erik pulled up to Charles' apartment and parked on the curb. "Home sweet home." He smiled over at the brunet.

Charles, who was still looking down at his lighter, slipped it into his pocket and gave Erik a small smile with a nod. A thanks of sorts. Erik nodded back, looking down at the man's bright red lips- -_ah, so it wasn't from the sucker_- -and then back up. "You should smile more often Charles; it's a good look on you."

For a moment, Charles just looked at him, and then: "I wish I had more reasons to smile." He then opened the car door and started to get out.

But he stopped, halfway through, and turned back to look at Erik.

And Erik looked at him, his heart racing.

Charles came back into the car, leaned over the stick shift and placed a quick kiss to Erik's cheek.

"Thanks," he said softly, "for the ride." A pause. "And the lighter."

And then Charles was gone; closing the door behind him and making his way up the stairs to his apartment.

And Erik watched, smile on his face, a tingle on his cheek, as Charles made his way inside and closed the door behind him.

It was; a start.

A good start.

…

Next Friday.

Erik was sucking his cigarette down like he _wanted_ to die from lung cancer as he watched Shaw, who had one arm around Charles' waist as the other waved around frantically as he told Emma and Azazel a story. Probably about his last race and how he almost killed the poor guy racing him by running the kid off the road and into a tree. Asshole.

Shaw made a *BAM* noise and then laughed out manically. Yep: definitely the tree story. Emma cackled her own laugh and Azazel kind of just chuckled before looking away and meeting Erik's eyes. He raised his eyebrows at Erik and shrugged, a "he's a prick, isn't he?" type look on his face and then smiled at Erik before turning his attention back to Shaw.

Smirking around his cigarette, Erik took in one last drag before flinging it to the ground. He leaned against his car, which he absolutely did NOT name "Magneto", and waited for Logan to come by and tell him who he'd be racing tonight.

"You got Summers," Logan announced gleefully (the jerk) as he tossed the man a can of Red Bull. Erik caught it and winced.

But not at the energy drink- -as putrid as it was- -but at the fact that he had to race Alex. _Again_.

"Come on Logan," he said as he popped the can open, "not Summers again, you know I hate racing him." The kid tends to get a bit emotional when he loses.

Which he does.

All the time.

But especially to Erik.

Logan just shrugged, opening his own can of liquid crack in a can. "I know," he agreed. "But I haven't seen the kid cry in a while." He looked over at Erik. "And he only cries when he loses to you," he added with a smile.

Somewhere, not too far off in the distance, a voice could be heard saying: "I don't fucking cry!" Followed by another voice, one that sounded suspiciously a lot like Scott Summers, that replied: "Yes you do!"

Logan grinned ear to ear and shot his man a proud look while Erik just chuckled as he took a sip. Fucking Summers brothers. After a moment, he looked back to Logan, all serious and shit again. "Next week man, please, let me have Shaw."

A sigh from Logan. "Erik, you're my friend, and as much as I'd love to see you wipe the floor with Shaw's ass-" he looked at the man next to him, "-I just don't think you're ready." He then popped a cigar into his mouth and worked on lighting it. And exactly _where_ the man keeps those things on his person is still a mystery to Erik, because they seem to multiply.

Erik gritted his teeth as he set his drink down (on the ground, never on Mag-…_his car_). "Come on man, you know how bad I want to take that bastard down. Just let me do it. I want to make him cry."

Finally getting his cigar lit, Logan just tipped his head to the side. "Yeah, I do know." He took a puff and then removed it from his mouth, pointing it at Erik. "And that's why I know you're not ready. You're still mad."

A huff. "I swear to god Logan, you're like a broken record with that crap," he muttered as he reached for his pack of smokes. _Hello lung cancer_.

And of course, Logan just smirked. "And so are you," he replied. "So are you."

…

Erik raced Alex, and won, and Alex didn't cry, but he did throw a fit and kick his car, cursing that Erik must use nitrous of something like that, because that's the only way that he could win _every single freaking time_.

Little did Alex know, it had nothing to do with what Erik put _in_ his car, but how he drove it.

Also, Alex's car is crap, but Erik would never say that. To his face.

A couple of car floozies attempted to come up to Erik and wrap themselves around him, offering a congratulatory blowjob, but with one murderous look the skanks got the hint and beat feet the fuck out of there.

He was NOT Shaw.

And Charles watched all this of course, from under his eyelashes as Shaw just made a prickly face at Erik and his winnings. He sneered and held Charles closer to his body, watching as Alex handed Erik a wad of cash, the blond still cursing and saying that it was bullshit and somewhere off in the distance Logan could be heard laughing.

"Lehnsherr thinks he's such a hot racer," Shaw snarled as he ran his hand lower on Charles' side until it met hip. He pulled the brunet against his front, chest to chest, and looked down into his blue eyes. "But he ain't got shit on me," he murmured. "I'd take him and his precious little car down any day." He ran a hand down Charles' face; all the way down to his neck.

Charles rolled his eyes at the use of "ain't" and looked up at the older man. "Then why don't you race him?" He asked, smart-assly. "If he's so easy to take down."

And Shaw…Shaw honest-to-god didn't know what to say to that. He blinked a few times before removing his hand from Charles and turning away. "I need to go…talk to Emma," he said lamely. "I'll be back."

Charles rolled his eyes again.

…

Later that night, Erik met eyes with Charles again, and wouldn't you know it: the brunet was once again tucked up Shaw's arm. How appropriate. Erik smiled at him, leaning against his car as he smoked.

Charles looked away, quickly, moving a tiny step closer to Shaw, and then started chewing on his lip.

_Check_, Erik thought as his smile widened. He took another inhale, still looking at the brunet. And when Charles looked back up, Erik winked at him.

Instantly Charles' eyes shot back down and even under just the street lights, Erik could see his cheeks turn red.

_Checkmate_. Erik couldn't help the small chuckle that left his body. He flicked his cigarette away and stood up straighter, adjusting his leather coat. _Too bad Charles didn't wear his tonight, he looks rather sexy in it._

But something must have happened in between, for Shaw's attention was suddenly flung on Erik, and he had a murderous look in his eyes. He then looked down to Charles, who was studying the ground as if it were _the_ most interesting thing on this planet, and then back to Erik.

Shaw narrowed his eyes. And then it was as if he kicked Erik's strange little mind chess game, for next thing Erik knew, the slimy man was tipping Charles' face up and kissing him.

With his tongue no less, and all while eyeing Erik from across the lot.

Well, isn't that fucking lovely? Erik just shook out another cigarette and popped it into his mouth. He was not impressed. After he lit it and took a drag, he looked back up, just in time to see Charles shove the man off him and heard: "Come on Sebastian, what is wrong with you? People don't want to see that."

And Erik just smiled, mentally picking up his chess pieces to start over again.

…

Not long after that, and right as Erik was getting in his car to leave- -he had enough action for one night- -he spotted Charles and Shaw once more. He waited a moment and watched.

Shaw had come up to Charles, who had just lit his own cigarette, and grabbed the younger man's hand, bringing to his face.

"Where'd you get this?" he asked, venomously, as he eyed the blue zippo in the brunet's hand.

But Charles just snatched his hand back, shooting the man his own poisonous look. "What's it to you?"

Oh, interesting.

Now Erik reemerged from his car, getting back out and leaning against it once more. He wasn't going anywhere quite yet now. He crossed his arms over his chest and watched.

"What happened to that yellow lighter I gave you?" Shaw asked. And fuck, does the man keep inventory on Charles or something? Erik snorted.

"It ran out of fluid a while ago," Charles just retorted. He slipped the zippo back into his pocket, safely.

"Who gave you that?" Shaw demanded to know again, grabbing Charles by his upper arm.

And then it happened: Charles snapped. "Why do _you_ care?" He pulled away from the older man sharply. "YOU never get me anything as is!" He then stormed off to the side of Shaw's car and flung the door open. "Just take me home now," he said coldly.

Charles got in the car as Shaw stalked over to the driver's side. He briefly caught eyes with Erik, who curled up one side of his mouth, and Charles looked away quickly.

Erik just kept smiling_. Check_, _again_.

…

Next Friday.

Shaw had just won, yet again (insert eyeroll) another race and was busy receiving his praise from the car floozies and taking the poor saps keys away, when Erik noticed Charles walked off towards the woods, _yet again_.

And of course, despite the little voice in his head that was screaming: _you're borderline stalking him_, Erik still made his way over, jogging after the man.

"Hey," Erik said. Charles turned, cigarette halfway to his mouth, and paused.

But before Erik had the chance to say anything, Charles was already speaking.

"You know, you almost got me in trouble," the brunet said, looking at Erik as he made his way closer. "With that lighter you got me," he clarified. He lit his cigarette, with said lighter, and went on. "Shaw got pissed over it- -accused me of sleeping around on him." That's funny coming from a man who currently has his tongue down a car floozy's mouth. Charles took in an inhale and looked away, blowing the smoke out. "It was 'quite' the fun car ride home." He looked back to Erik.

But Erik just took another step closer, backing Charles up against the nearest tree. "Funny you say all that," he said as a smile spread over his face. "Yet _you're_ the one who chose to use it right in front of him," Erik said softly, looking down at Charles' lips. His eyes flashed back up. "So it's not really me you're mad at, is it?"

A hitching breath came from Charles as he found his back against a tree, Erik placing one hand up by his head and trapping him in. His eyes flashed up to the taller man's.

A pause, and then:

"No," he breathed, and then Erik knocked the cigarette from Charles' hand and kissed him. _Hard_.

Charles whimpered into the kiss, bringing his now cigarette-free hand up to tangle in the taller man's hair as the kiss deepened; mouth on mouth as hot breaths tangled together.

And it probably would've deepened even more (Erik was about to push Charles up the tree so the smaller man could wrap his legs around him) but a voice rang out and startled them both.

Shaw's voice.

"Charles, where are you?"

Quickly, Charles pulled away with a gasp. "I have to go," he said, and a little breathlessly too. He looked up at Erik with something in his eyes- -Erik wasn't sure; it happened so quickly- -and then he was off: headed back to the main road.

Watching in a daze, Erik just touched his lips (still tingling, just like his cheek did when Charles kissed that) and smiled.

Sooner or later, Charles would be his.

…

Next Friday.

A smirk curled around Erik's lips as he eyed Charles, who, wouldn't you know it: had another goddamn lollipop stuck in his mouth.

Erik wasn't positive, but he was beginning to think the man was trying to give him a heart attack.

Fuck, if smoking didn't kill him, Charles would. Charles and that sucker.

Charles met Erik's gaze, still tucked under Shaw's protective arm (luckily the older man was busy bragging about his latest race to an enthusiastic Emma and a bored Azazel to notice anything else), and he smiled around the candy's stick, giving Erik bashful eyes. He twirled the sucker in his mouth, eyes hot on the other man, and then popped it out to lick his lips.

Yeah, Erik was pretty sure he was going to _die_ right about now.

Either that or pop a boner, and _that_ he did not need. Not right now at least. He needed a distraction.

Looking around, Erik spotted relief when he caught sight of Logan whizzing on a nearby tree. Good _god_ that man has no shame.

"What?" Logan grunted towards him, still pissing away, cigar in mouth. "You want a picture or something?"

Chuckling, Erik just replied: "I can't even tell you how much I don't want a picture of your ugly mug," before turning back around. Ah, distraction successful.

And Logan might have retorted: "Ugly? I look like Hugh Jackman motherfucker, who you calling ugly?" But Erik didn't pay one heap of attention, for he was looking back at the lovely brunet across the lot again.

Now if only he didn't have to look at Shaw in the proceedings.

Charles twirled the sucker in his mouth again, looking at Erik with sexy eyes. _Christ_, so much for getting rid of his boner problem. Erik sucked in a sharp breath, reaching for a smoke to calm his nerves.

This boy was going to be the death of him.

Oh wait, we've already been over that.

Erik lit up, taking in a drag before looking back at his future-cause-of-death.

Yeah, that's right; smoking just took the backseat for a while. Congratulations Charles.

Right when Erik met Charles' eyes again, the brunet decided to give his sucker a particularly naughty lick, looking right at Erik as he did and-

_Oh shit_. Shaw just HAD to choose that exact moment to look down at Charles, for now he was glaring over at Erik, angrily. He then looked back at his arm candy (Charles, not the sucker), and then to Erik again. And it didn't help matters that Charles was about five shades of red now, looking down at the ground in shame. _Crap_.

But Erik, cool as ever (even though his heart was racing in his chest), just leaned against the side of his car and smoked his cigarette, watching from under his eyelashes as Shaw proceeded to rip the sucker from Charles' mouth and then threw it to the ground.

"Really Charles?" The man hissed. "And here I thought you _weren't_ a slut."

And _Whoa! _That was uncalled for. And who is Shaw calling a slut? Like that man has any room to talk. Car floozy lover.

Now Erik was no longer leaning against his car- -oh no- -he was standing upright, and he was about to go over there and put his foot up Shaw's ass for _that_ little remark, but it seemed the man was already making his way over to Erik instead. _Good, that'll just make this easier._

"Yo Lehnsherr," Shaw hollered out as he made his way closer, "you want to race man? I know you've been just _dying_ to race me- -so let's go- -let's do it already." He put his arms out as he came closer.

Was…was he trying to be threatening here? He looked more like he was coming to hug Erik.

It made him shudder in horror.

Erik just flicked his smoke away and stuffed his hands in his coat pocket, eyeing the man he loathed.

"Not going to happen tonight guys," Logan was already saying, coming between the two men. "No one races on my watch when it's about feuds," he told them both, eyeing each man. By this point, Charles had made his way over, along with about ten others who were standing idly by.

But Shaw just gave the burly man his best, skeevy, fake smile. "Na man, this ain't about feuds," he told him (Logan looked like he didn't believe a word out of the man's ugly, little, lying mouth). "Lehnsherr and I are just fine." He looked to Erik. "Aren't we?"

Eyebrow cocked, Erik just looked at him for a moment before he spoke.

"Yeah," he said dryly, "because all my friends call me by my last name."

But Logan was just shaking his head again. "No way boys, not going-"

"No," Erik cut in, looking deathly calm at Shaw. "It's okay Logan, I want to do this." And he did, _bad._ More than anything possibly.

Looking back and forth between the two men, Logan finally just huffed out a: "Fine, your all's funeral." He put his hands up and backed away. Fucking stubborn ass men. Maybe this will get it out of their systems once and for all.

Pleased, Shaw smirked, looking right at Erik. "But I have a better idea," he told his ex. "Instead of racing for cars-" he looked at Erik's Audi, "-or money." And then back to Erik. "I was thinking we could make this more interesting."

Okay, Erik will bite. "Interesting how?" he inquired.

If possible, Shaw's smile got even skeevier. "How about, if you lose: you never show your face around here again. _Ever_."

Charles gasped, quietly, but he still gasped. He should've known Sebastian would do something like this. His eyes flashed over to Erik, who was still too calm for this type of situation. The other man just stared at Shaw, eyes never leaving the older man.

And then:

"And what if I win?"

Okay, NOW Shaw's smile got even skeevier- -fuck before- -this one was just plain _menacing_.

A pause (probably for dramatic effect), and then:

"Why you get Charles, of course."

Now gasps could be heard from the all bystanders, Alex and Darwin included. But Erik didn't pay that one heap of attention; he was too busy looking at Charles and _his_ expression after hearing that.

It was…_devastating_.

Charles was looking at Shaw like he was the most horrifying creature on earth, one that just crawled out of the lowest, dirtiest, sewer ever, before: "How could you?" he whispered, betrayal written all over his face and pain in his blue eyes. _He WAS just a trophy to him_.

But Shaw wasn't paying attention to him; he was too busy sneering at Erik. He took another step closer, coming right up next to Erik and hissed in his face: "You think I don't see the way you look at him?"

Erik twisted his face to the side, making his own pained expression. Shaw… could use a mint.

But the man just kept right on going, bad breath included. "You think I don't know that it was _you_ who took Charles home that night?" He narrowed his eyes at Erik. "I know it was you Lehnsherr, and I also know that you were the one who bought him that zippo."

"You have no proof of that," Erik said coolly as he reached into his coat pocket and drew out his own blue zippo, one exactly identical to Charles', and lit a cigarette.

Shaw's nostrils flared as he took in an angry breath. And then: "So what do you say then, _Erik_, are you down to race?"

Taking in a drag, Erik blew the smoke out his mouth before he replied:

"Oh, I'm always down to race, motherfucker."

…

Erik and Shaw raced, and, as predicted: Shaw won. Charles watched with a heavy heart as Shaw blazed past the finish line, and Erik…well fuck, it was as if Erik wasn't even trying: he finished a full ten seconds after Shaw.

What the hell?

When Shaw emerged from his car, all smiles and smugness, he grabbed Charles and brought him near. "I told you I'd win baby," he said, smiling down at his trophy. He then looked over to where Erik was, getting out of his car, nonplussed, and as if he really didn't care that he just lost and was no longer allow to race here again.

Or see Charles.

Charles swallowed thickly; looking at Erik as well, question burning in his eyes. Something just didn't seem right…

But Erik just tipped his head towards Shaw, acknowledging that he had won and then turned to face Logan. "It's all good man. I'll be seeing you around," he said to his friend (Logan nodded in response. He knew he'd be seeing Erik again, not here, but other places). Next Erik gave his nods of goodbye to all his other friends: Darwin, Alex, Scott, Azazel, and everyone else he had come to know during his time at the races. But he'd be seeing all of them around again; there were other places besides here. It wouldn't be the last time he saw them all.

Well, except for one person…

He glanced back at Charles, and smiled.

"See you later Lehnsherr," Shaw said with mockery. "The exits, uh, that-a-way," he told him, pointing his one free hand down the long road. "So, get going."

And to everyone's surprise (especially Logan's), instead of slinging an insult the man's way, Erik just got back in his car and started up the engine again, ready to leave this place behind.

"Good riddance to bad rubbish," Shaw muttered as he held Charles closer to his side. And Charles' eyes were wide, still wondering, as he saw Erik give him once last look through the windshield; still wearing that small, knowing smile.

The Audi's engine was loud as Erik started to drive away, throwing it into second before-

"Wait!"

Shaw looked down at Charles, who was…wait, where was he going? He watched with a frown as Charles took off towards Erik's car, walking quickly at first and then sprinting.

What the...?

The brake lights lit up on Erik's car and he threw it in neutral, smiling even wider as he watched Charles come closer through his side mirror.

"I swear to god Charles," Shaw yelled out, "if you get in that car; it is so _over_ between us!"

But Charles just kept on sprinting, all the way until he made it to the passenger's side door, where he flung it open.

"I'm serious Charles, it will be _over_!"

Charles got in.

"Hey," he said, a little out of breath and chest slightly heaving. He looked right at Erik, and he seemed a little shocked too, like he wasn't sure what he was doing, or that he couldn't believe he'd just done that.

"Hey," Erik replied, still smiling entirely too large for his own good.

"I…" Charles didn't know what to say. He shook his head, confused, and then looked up at Erik.

"Did you throw the race?"

Shrugging, Erik looked straight ahead, one hand on the wheel and one hand on the stick. "I only want you to be with me if _you_ want to be with me." He looked over to the brunet. "You're not some trophy to be won, Charles." He smiled. "But you are a prize."

Ducking his head, Charles smiled.

"I'm serious Charles." Shaw was now in front of the car, looking at both of them. And _boy_ did he look pissed. "If you drive off with him, it really _will_ be over between us! I'm not messing around anymore! Get the fuck out of that car and get back over to where you belong: in front of MY car!"

Charles looked out the windshield at Shaw and then back to Erik.

"I want to be with you," he said, and then leaned over and kissed Erik on the mouth.

Shaw slapped his hands on the hood of the car with a: "Slut!" before stalking off. And it was probably for the best that he walked off, because Erik was about to throw it into first and run Shaw's ass over for calling Charles that, but at the same time, Charles WAS kissing him and he really didn't want to move his lips.

That and, vehicular homicide probably wasn't the best thing to have on his record, now that he was in a relationship with someone.

A certain someone who he'd been pinning over for the past few weeks or so.

When Charles pulled away, breathlessly, he let out a content sigh, his hand still on Erik's cheek. "I've wanted to do that again since the tree incident," he admitted.

Erik just chuckled, turning his face to the side to kiss Charles' hand. "And I've wanted to do that since the first day I laid eyes on you," he returned, and Charles ducked his head and blushed.

"Now come on," Erik said, pulling away and putting his car into first, "let's get out of here." He let up on the clutch and pushed the gas petal down as Charles sat back in his seat and they took off down the road.

"Where are you taking me?" the brunet inquired, looking seductively at the driver.

Looking over at his passenger with a smirk, Erik just replied: "Back to my place. I think we have some unfinished business that involved you teasing me with a lollipop earlier that I'd like to see get tended to." He eyed Charles up and down. "If that's okay with you."

"Oh," Charles said with his own flirty smile, "that's very much okay with me."

…

Erik slammed Charles up against the door to his apartment, kissing his breath away until the smaller man pushed him back for air.

"Erik," he breathed, looking at the man with blown pupils. "Erik, let's go inside," he suggested.

Unable to agree more, Erik fished his keys out of his pocket, his zippo spilling out along the way. Charles bent down and picked it up as Erik worked on unlocking the door. He stood up, eyeing the lighter that looked just like the one Erik bought for him, before raising an eyebrow to the frantic man fighting with his front door.

Stopping, Erik just looked to the lighter in Charles' hand and then to Charles. He smiled. "I can explain."

"You did that on purpose," Charles said. Dryly.

The smile never left Erik's face.

"And you made sure to use it in front of Sebastian," Charles added, still dry, "didn't you?"

"I'd like to plead the fifth now."

Groaning with an eyeroll, Charles just started pushing the taller man through the finally open door. "Just get inside already, would you?"

And the second they both tumbled in- -Erik closing the door with his foot- -Charles hit his knees, ready to show Erik in person just what his lollipop sucking skills were all about. He reached for the man's zipper-

But Erik stopped him. Charles looked up, wondering why the taller man just grabbed his upper arm and pulled him back, question in his eyes.

"You've done enough servicing as of lately Charles." And Erik had to stomp down the spike of jealousy that came with _that_ sentence. _He's yours now, not Shaw's_. "So now let someone else service you." He then hoisted the smaller man up and swung him around until he landed in the nearest chair.

And then Erik hit _his_ knees.

"Oh my," Charles mumbled out in arousal, looking down at the man below him. "Erik, I- -um- -oh dear."

Looking up (as he worked on undoing the man's pants), Erik furrowed his brows at Charles' stammering. He stopped. "What's wrong? Am I not doing it right?"

Charles was blushing, which didn't get any cuter than that, and stammered out. "Oh, no- -it's just- -I haven't- -I…"

Now Erik stopped completely, looking up at Charles as if he grew a second head. "Please tell me I'm not your first blowjob?" Or wait, no- -please tell him he IS Charles' first blowjob. God that would be hot.

"No," Charles said a little defensively. Bummer- -that's a spirit breaker. He shook his head. "No, I've had a blowjob before, it's just- -uh-" he looked away again, chewing on his bottom lip. "It's been a very, _very_ long time."

And Erik's not entirely sure why, but his cock pulsed even harder in his pants after hearing that.

"Well Charles," he said as he resumed pants removal, "then you're in for a very nice surprise-" he started tugging the man's jeans off his body, bringing them down to his ankles, "-because I just so happen to be an _expert_ at fellatio." A pause. "Damn it, I just made myself sound like a whore, didn't I?"

Chuckling, Charles just reached down and cupped the older man's cheek. "A little bit, but I don't care." He leaned over and pressed his mouth to Erik's for a sweet kiss before pulling back to say: "I guess that makes two of us then." And Erik growled, surging back up and sealing their lips together again for a deeper kiss.

One might even say possessive.

"You're not a whore Charles," he said after pulling back. He looked soulfully into the other man's eyes. "You're _mine_."

Yep, definitely possessive.

A breath hitched in Charles' throat as he leaned back against the chair and watched as Erik palmed his erection through his boxers, thier eyes locked hotly together. "Erik," he gasped.

And then Erik carefully removed his cock through the slit in his boxers, his mouth practically watering at the sight of the man's cock he was about to engulf with his mouth. He gave it a few good, teasing, strokes- -looking up at Charles while he did and then-

Took it into his mouth, all the way, sucking him down and making Charles squirm around in his seat, moaning and gasping, clawing at the armrests as if it had been a very, very long time since he'd last-

Oh, that's right: it had been.

Erik bobbed his head, sucking Charles for all he was worth, pulling out every last ounce of pleasure he could from the man above.

And when Charles reached out and weaved his hand in Erik's hair, moaning and panting, Erik couldn't help the small whimper that escaped his own mouth. He flashed his eyes up to the man he was servicing, catching blue, and then sucked him harder: his tongue running along the underside of Charles' cock.

"_Nngh_. God Erik, _yes_," Charles moaned out. He tightened his hold on Erik's hair, chest heaving from panting, and then came into the man's mouth, huffing out a breath (or two) as he did.

And when Erik pulled back, smugly, and with a smile on his face, he licked his lips, looking up at the thoroughly wrecked man and said: "Good?" Like he didn't know the answer.

A short laugh left Charles as he rolled his eyes for show before grabbing Erik by the shirt collar and hoisting him forward. "Of course it was good you smug bastard- -you got me to cum in under five minutes."

Erik smiled. "In your defense; you haven't had a blowjob in a very, very long time."

Rolling his eyes again, Charles just replied: "Just…shut up and kiss me," with his own smile.

After that kiss was broken (reluctantly via Erik), Charles cupped the older man's face, looking down lovingly at him and said:

"Your turn."

And wouldn't you know it; Charles had the world's filthiest grin on his face.

Erik's cock jumped.

…

Charles pushed Erik down onto his bed, climbing on top after the man. "Now, let's just go ahead and get rid of these while we're at it." He flung Erik's jeans off with precision, as if this wasn't the first time he'd done something like this.

Well; it wasn't- -was it?

Oh well, nevertheless, Erik watched with eager eyes (and a massive hard-on) as Charles leaned down and took his cock into his mouth, sucking him down to the hilt before flashing his eyes up to Erik's and humming low in his throat.

"Christ Charles," Erik bit out as his head hit the pillow, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. _Fuck. _It was possibly the most erotic thing he'd ever seen.

Wait, scratch that: it _was_.

The younger man worked Erik's cock with his mouth; moving it over and over again over the man's shaft until Erik was reduced to a jumbling mess of moans and gasps and nearly bucking his hips up off the bed in attempt to all out fuck into Charles' beautifully talented mouth.

But when Charles popped off- -more than likely for air- -and took in a gasping breath, letting his hand take over for his overworked mouth as he looked Erik lustfully in the eyes, was when Erik came; coating the brunet's hand with his warmth.

"_God_," Erik rasped out, watching as Charles' pupils became, if possible, even darker.

Satisfied, Charles looked down at his thoroughly covered hand, and then back to Erik. "It would seem it's been a while for you too." He observed.

Erik was neither going to confirm nor deny this.

He surged up, wrapping his hand around the back of Charles' head and kissed him.

"No Charles," he said after pulling away, his words just a breath. "It's you."

_Oh_. Charles smiled, bashfully.

After both men cleaned up, to the best of their ability (Charles simply wiping his hand on the covers and Erik sacrificing his shirt to clean his cock), they both fell back together; Charles laying his head on Erik's shoulder as he wrapped his arm around the man's narrow waist. Erik placed a kiss to Charles' forehead before sighing happily.

They both lay in comfortable silence for a minute before Charles glanced up at the older man and said: "So what now? Where will you race now that you can't go back to your normal spot?"

But Erik, who seemed not all too worried about it, just replied: "There's other places." He looked down at Charles. "That's not the only one that Logan runs; he has others. I'll be fine."

Charles looked off across the room. "Oh." He simply said. Well that seems like an easy enough solution.

"That," Erik continued, smirk on his face, "or I could always crash the kiddie ones." He met eyes with Charles and his smile grew even wider. "Show them little 18 year olds what _real_ racing is all about."

The brunet chuckled. "You're terrible Erik," he said. Terribly good looking.

Agreeing, Erik just laughed. "I know, aren't I?"

Now Charles rolled onto his stomach, folding his arms over Erik's chest and placing his chin on them. He looked the other man in the eyes. "What? You didn't get enough of making that Alex boy cry?"

Erik snorted. "A boy- -that's for sure." He looked down at Charles. "If it wasn't for his older brother Scott, he would have been banished to the 'kiddie' races. He's lucky his brother sucks Logan's cock on a regular basis."

Charles' eyes went wide. "Scott and Logan? Really? But those two hate each other. All I ever saw them do was fight and throw stuff at each other. I mean, really, just the other night, Logan whipped a can of Red Bull at Scott's head- -_right at his head_- -and then they proceeded to get into a fist fight." He blinked. "I mean a _real_ fucking fist fight- -there was blood." Lots of it too.

"Yeah," Erik said, smiling at the memory, "that's their sick fucked up form of foreplay. I guarantee those two went behind a tree and fucked after that."

Wow, major TMI. Charles made a face. "Okay, that's more than I needed to know, thanks."

Erik laughed again before placing a kiss to the younger man's face. They lay in silence once more, just listening to the sound of their breathing.

"So," Charles said after a minute (Erik's eyes flashed to his again), "does this mean I get to be your car floozy?" A smile spread over his face. Erik just matched it and replied:

"Yes." He then turned serious. "But only you."

Charles looked at him with question.

"Only YOU get to be my car floozy," he clarified. "No one else." He didn't care for busty blondes or brunettes anyway. A telling grin then spread over Erik's face and Charles chuckled, snuggling closer to the man.

"Good," he breathed, burying his face into Erik's warm skin. "I'm glad to hear that."

"Me too," Erik muttered, pulling Charles closer and breathing him in.

And the way Erik saw it was: he may have lost the race, but he was still the winner.

THE END


End file.
